Nice Girls
by Zerafall
Summary: Hikigaya Hachiman stands in a hallway. With knees trembling, and the steel in his will quickly rusting into nothingness, he faces Kaori Orimoto. A confession spills from the former's lips, and a rejection spills from the latter's.


Hikigaya Hachiman loves nice girls.

And why wouldn't he? They're among the only ones to ever give him the time of day. While regular girls would always be scared away by his social awkwardness; nice girls always stayed to get to know him together. They never judged by first impressions.

So here he is. Confessing to one of those aforementioned nice girls. He doesn't know how he manages to summon up the well of courage necessary to even _attempt_ something like this, but he feels it draining: fast.

The chatter of passersby is a dull knocking at the back of his mind. He focuses on it, drowns himself in the sound, and for a moment, it pushes down his anxiety: his legs stop shaking, his pulse slows down to less dangerous levels. The words on his mind make their commute to his mouth.

Orimoto looks at him expectantly, tucking a strand of chocolate hair behind ear. She smiles at him. And all of his control is thrown out the window.

"What is it, Hikigaya-kun?" She asks him. God, is he really going through with this? How can she not hear his heart?

 _'Thump'_ it goes, again and again, a mix between an orchestra and a broken tape recorder that only has his trepidation stored, playing an unbearably loud, maddening beat, no matter how much he tries to calm it down.

His collar feels unbearably tight, all a sudden. Pulling at it doesn't help. The hallway is spacious, yet the atmosphere makes the walls seem so much closer. Claustrophobia always makes anxiety worse.

"Hikigaya-kun?" She prompts, but he doesn't hear her.

He can't go on like this. He should just leave things as they are, he should just make an excuse. He should just turn tail and run; ignoring his true feelings all the while. Bury them under smiles and barely-genuine laughs.

But he can't.

Orimito, ever considerate and helpful, is starting to get concerned now. She takes a step towards him,

"Are you alright?" She asks.

No

"Ah, yeah," he says. Rubbing the back of his head and grinning in a slight sheepish manner, "thanks for asking."

Thanks for taking the time to always talk to me, he wants to say. Thanks for sharing your lunch with me when I forget to pack them, he wants to say. Thanks for being so nice to a loser like me, he wants to say. I love you, he wants to say.

He clears his throat, "I ah...w-will you go o-out with m-me..."

For a second all is silent. He cannot hear anything. He cannot feel anything. All he sees is Orimoto, in front of him with an unreadable expression on her face. Dread, slithery and skin-prickling, settles into his chest. He can barely even breathe.

Orimoto smiles uncertainly, taking another step to him, "Sorry? I didn't hear you. What did you say?"

He feels a strange combination of relief and frustration at hearing that. In a way he's been given a second chance at backing out. He can pretend this never happened. He's been given an escape route.

And for a second, he thinks about taking that very same route. Live to fight another day, and all of that, right? He should apologize for taking her time, say it's nothing. She won't believe it, sure. But she'll ignore it. That's just the kind of person she is.

Nothing has to change. They can be the same as ever.

But that isn't good enough for him. He knows himself. He knows what kind of person Hikigaya Hachiman is. He knows that despite how cowardly as he is, he would never be content to wallow in uncertainty, would always wonder at the road never travelled.

He is not brave. The though almost makes him laugh out loud. But maybe, just maybe, sheer bull-headedness would be a suitable replacement.

Deep breaths...

He opens his eyes, and he envisions a future. Of him and Orimoto, holding hands, snuggling on the couch, watching television. Getting married, kids: a happy future, an ideal future, an optimistic future.

And while he's always been more of a cynic than an optimist. He can't help but chase after that future.

So he speaks the words, as weak sounding as they may be.

"Can you g-go out with me?" He feels almost proud. He does not sound confident at all. It's a far cry from his previous pathetic attempt, though.

All is silent for a few seconds. His eyes, as uncertain as they are, are locked onto her face. Waiting, hoping against all of his might that it would light up, that she would happily squeal and say yes, that she would rush over to him and hug him, that he would catch that impossible future in his trembling hands.

She does not do that. Brow tightly knitted together, a grimace. She takes a small step back. The expression vanishes behind a stoic mask, so fast that he almost thinks that he imagines it.

He's a sinking stone in an ocean. No chance of escaping the fate of being submerged in endless blue.

She laughs lightly. It's not her usual light and airy and carefree laugh. It's dry and cracking and awkward.

"Sorry, Hikigaya-kun. I don't like you that way," He sees it coming a mile away - he's observant, he saw the signs. Still, knowing that. Why does it hurt so much?

"We can still be friends, though," She adds, a second later. Almost an afterthought. Because in the end, that's all he is to her. What a fool he is. Him? With her? Get real Hachiman, he tells himself, a bad taste in his mouth.

He tries to laugh the rejection off, but the sound that comes from him is anything but casual. He's still in a daze. It's not like he didn't expect this outcome, but somehow, someway, he's still surprised at the rejection.

Orimoto is saying something but it all passes into one ear and out the other. He turns on his heel, unsure of his destination, ignoring her calls, and runs away.

His eyes feel itchy. His breath leaves him in short wet gasps; he does not cry, but he's dangerously close to doing so.

How pathetic. He can't even take a rejection with grace.

His steps are fueled with hurt, and his heart is plagued with an unbearable ache. He runs faster and faster, passing other students. They stop to point and stare, like he's the newest attraction at the zoo.

Something in him breaks off, maybe it's his innocence, maybe it's his faith. Whatever the case, it's replaced with something darker, and more bitter. He does know one thing, though.

Hikigaya Hachiman hates nice girls.

 **AN**

 **And so my first foray into Oregairu fanfiction starts with a broken Hachiman. Why am I like this?**

 **Anyway, considering I've only watched the anime. There's bound to be a few inconsistencies, so forgive me for that.**

 **I've got a few more fics, planned for Oregairu, so be on the lookout for those. Some of them will be things that only a degenerate (like me) would enjoy, some of them will be things that everyone can enjoy.**

 **I've got a few fics in the RWBY category if you like what you saw here. None of them bypass ten thousand words, though (I blame my chaotic, story churning mess of a brain).**

 **Remember to leave a review. Love it? Hate it? Mildly indifferent to it? In any case, any** **input would be appreciated.**


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